


Chirping and Flirting

by WrathoftheStag



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Bitty's POV, Crushes, Insecurity, Jack's POV, M/M, Meeting, Misunderstandings, Self-Doubt, a painful meet cute, and I love him okay?, chirping and flirting, jack is a total dweeb, zimbits au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-09-24 23:37:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20366992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrathoftheStag/pseuds/WrathoftheStag
Summary: “Would you say that chirping and flirting could be considered the same thing under the right circumstances?” Jack asked the Falconers at lunch.  A ficlet on what happens when Jack gets a crush on a new neighbor but keeps putting his foot in his mouth. Featuring Jack's and Bitty's POVs.





	1. Jack's POV

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mamashitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamashitty/gifts).

> As requested by [omgshittyplz](https://omgshittyplz.tumblr.com) from the [kiss prompts](https://wrathofthestag.tumblr.com/post/186794378674/50-types-of-kisses-writing-prompts)! #4: An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose.

“Would you say that chirping and flirting could be considered the same thing under the right circumstances?”

Everyone in the nook paused and looked up at Jack, some with their forks halfway to their mouths. Jack could have sworn he heard a fork fall to the floor.

“What?” Jack asked at the line of teammates gawking at him with straight-up confusion.

“Zimmboni, you asking because you flirting with... someone?” Tater asked as he narrowed his eyes. 

The blush on Jack’s face revealed the answer they were looking for as the entire team erupted in whoops and hollers. 

“For real?” Thirdy asked with a mile-wide grin.

“Who’s the girl--uh, guy, uh, person?” Snowy asked.

“Forget I asked,” Jack said as he tucked back into his chicken tender salad. 

“Okay, okay, okay, okay. Come on, let the man breathe,” Marty said. “To answer your question, it depends. Flirting and chirping can go hand in hand if done with panache, kiddo.”

“Panache?” Jack asked.

“Jack, you got a crush on someone?” Poots asked.

“Normally, I could give two shits about you guys’ love life,” Guy said. He paused to take a huge bite out of his burger and then continued, “but I think I speak for everyone when I say I want details, man, details.” 

Jack ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled. 

“So, about two weeks ago…”

_Three weeks ago, actually..._

Jack slowed to a trot which dissolved into a walk as he ended his early evening run. The August sun was beginning to dip into the horizon, and the heat was pleasant, not stifling. He stopped in front of his apartment building and took a long sip from his water bottle. Jack could feel the beads of sweat roll down his forehead, and the cool water going down his throat felt incredible. 

He felt someone approaching from behind and turned around, mid-sip, only to be taken by surprise by the sight of the cutest man he’d ever seen. Blond, enormous dark eyes, a trim but muscular build—and the sweetest face. Jack was so taken by him that at that moment, he inhaled deeply and his water went down the wrong way. As the physiology fates would have it, Jack found himself involuntarily spitting it out as he dissolved into a manic coughing fit.

“Oh, good lord!” a voice cried out.

Jack gasped and sputtered and realized he had spat his water out all over the very cute—and very annoyed looking—stranger.

“I’m so sorry,” Jack wheezed and coughed.

The blond man with the water-splattered t-shirt frowned and slapped Jack on the back.

“There, there,” he said flatly.

“Thank you,” Jack croaked out. “I’m okay.”

“Yeah... well, I’m glad one of us is.”

When Jack’s airway had finally cleared, he wiped his eyes and immediately realized everything that had just transpired.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry. I just spat water all over you,” Jack said as he wiped at the man’s t-shirt ineffectually.

“Listen, Orca, I know, I was there,” the man said as he stepped back. He sighed. “It’s fine. It was an accident.”

“I’m so sorry!” Jack said again.

“Forget about it. Really.”

Jack felt so stupid, he had to say something. Anything. 

“Haha, if anything, I improved your t-shirt, right? It now looks like a Pollock painting. You know, the drip painting guy?”

Eric glanced at his shirt, then back up at Jack and shook his head. “Wow, okay…”

Jack offered him a big smile, but he was sure it probably looked like a confused grimace more than anything. Oh boy, what was going on? The two made their way to the building’s door and reached for the handle at the same time.

“Sorry, here, after you,” Jack said as he opened the door for him.

“Thanks.”

They walked through the lobby and entered the same elevator that had just arrived. The doors closed, and the elevator music rang comically through the speakers as Jack tried to figure out what to say. 

“Did you, uh, just move in?”

“Yeah, just last week.”

“I haven’t seen you around.”

“Guess I’ve been busy unpacking.”

“Maybe ‘cause you’re short?”

The man turned to look at Jack. “Pardon me?”

“I mean, maybe I couldn’t see you behind the moving boxes?” Jack frowned. Oh god, could he stop talking now, please? “I’m Jack, by the way.” 

“Eric,” the cutie said. “Well, this is my floor. Excuse me.”

He walked out of the elevator, and Jack yelled out, “Nice meeting you!” as the doors closed.

Jack looked at his reflection on the elevator doors.

“Maybe because you're short?! Smooth, Jack. Real smooth.”

_Two days later..._

The elevator doors opened.

“Oh, Jack, hey,” Eric said. He had a travel mug in one hand, and a little sandwich wrapped in a cloth napkin in the other.

“Eric.”

The two stood silently, and Jack wondered if he should address the “short” comment, but he figured it was better left in the humiliating past.

“What do you have there?” Jack asked, just as Eric was about to take a bite.

“Bagel with jam.”

“Huh. You need more protein.”

“Protein?” Eric frowned. “Thanks, I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.”

“Yeah… to uh, grow? It’s just that… uh, protein is an important component in the body. Your body needs protein to build and repair tissues.”

Eric looked at Jack as if he had three heads, and Jack, lord have mercy, continued and couldn’t stop.

“Bones, muscles, cartilage, skin, blood… they all need protein.”

Eric snorted and shook his head. 

“Like I said, I’ll keep that in mind. I’m just happy I’m tall enough to reach the elevator buttons.”

“Haha. Guess you got lucky,” Jack said with a chirpy grin that Eric did not return.

The elevator dinged, and the doors split open.

“Goodbye, Jack,” Eric said as he left without turning back.

“Uh, yeah, sure, bye!” Jack said as he remained glued in place.

The elevator doors shut closed, but those with good hearing could hear Jack curse up a storm in there.

_Three days later..._

Jack hadn’t seen Eric in a while, and part of him was glad. Every time he saw Eric, Jack could feel himself turning into a bumbling idiot. He really liked Eric, and could only imagine that Eric must think he’s some jerky, douchy, jock that was probably making fun of him.

Jack was well aware that his flirting capabilities were rusty—hell, they could probably cause tetanus. He was grateful that every person he had been in a relationship with had been the initiator because otherwise, who knew if he’d ever have gotten laid. Jack Zimmermann was known as the NHL golden boy with an amazing game—but off the ice? He knew his game was The Worst. Apparently, his mating call was embarrassing factoids. His compliments, half-assed chirps. God, he needed help.

He was pulling into his parking spot after morning skate and saw Eric standing in the lot talking with Mrs. Rivera, the sweet little grandmother who lived on the 13th floor with her dog, Queso. Jack watched them in his rearview mirror and saw Eric smile sweetly as she spoke. Queso wagged his tail at Eric, and Eric laughed as he leaned down to pet him.

Queso liked Jack, as did Mrs. Rivera—he always helped her carry her groceries—so maybe this was his moment to shine and show Eric that he wasn’t some derpy sports dude. 

“Jack! Hi, _mijo_,” Mrs. Rivera said.

“Hi, Mrs. Rivera.”

She leaned in and gave him a peck on each cheek. Eric smiled as he watched.

“Hi, Jack.”

“Hi, Eric.”

“Eric here was telling me about his pies. He owns a bakery over on Hope street.”

“Nice, maybe I should go there and take the guys,” Jack said.

“I wouldn’t say no to some extra customers,” Eric smiled.

“Jack plays for the hockey team,” Mrs. Rivera said. “Did you know that, Eric?”

“I thought you looked familiar—guess I wasn’t sure where I’d seen you,” Eric said with a soft smile.

“Maybe you recognize me from the elevator? I’m in there a lot,” Jack said with a cheeky grin.

Eric snapped his fingers. “Yeah! That’s where.” 

“It’s a really _uplifting_ place,” Jack quickly added.

“I hear it has its ups and downs,” Eric shot back.

Jack grinned as Eric chuckled and shook his head. The two smiled at each other, and Jack felt like maybe he was finally breaking through whatever awkward barrier he had inadvertently set between them. Pie. Okay, Eric owned a pie shop, Jack could talk about pie. He liked pie.

“I like pie,” he said. 

Eric laughed. “Is that so?”

“Pie is good, except for pecan. That just seems so gross to me.” 

Eric flinched as though he had been smacked in the face, and Mrs. Rivera glanced between Jack and Eric.

“Will you look at the time,” Eric said, pointing at his wrist. Jack couldn’t help but notice that Eric was not wearing a watch. “I should get going. Bye, Mrs. Rivera. Bye, Queso. Jack.”

Eric adjusted the strap on his messenger bag and quickly walked away.

Mrs. Rivera cleared her throat. “Eric was just telling me about a big award he’s up for, for his pecan pie.”

“_Merde_,” Jack mumbled.

“Ay, _mijo_, you got that right,” Mrs. Rivera said as she patted Jack on the shoulder.

_The following week…_

Bit o’ Honey Bakery and Pie Shoppe was not too far from the apartment building, Jack found out. Mrs. Rivera had provided him with the intel of where Eric’s shop was located. So, as Jack was out for an afternoon walk, he decided to swing by and say hello to Eric.

He’d felt like a heel saying he didn’t like pecan pie—Eric couldn’t fault him for personal preferences—but he could make it up to him by buying lots of pie, pies to take to the nook. 

“Jack, what are you doing here?” Eric asked, looking surprised from behind the counter.

“I wanted to try some of your pie, and take some for the team.”

“Did you say 'take one for the team'?” Eric asked cautiously

“No, take _some_ for the team.”

“Oh, that’s really sweet of you,” Eric said with a shy smile. “Coffee?”

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Go have a seat, let me take this order, and I’ll bring it out to you,” Eric said with a wink.

Jack’s face burst into a big smile. He went over to a table off to the side and waited. He looked at the shop and was charmed. It was as though someone had taken Eric’s bright smile, his zippy way of dressing, the sweetness he saw with Mrs. Rivera and had put it into a bakery. With its sunny yellow walls, light wood tables, mint green curtains, cups, and dishes, Jack fell half in love with the little bakery immediately.

He took out his phone and took a picture of Eric at the counter, the sunlight on him just so.

A few minutes later, Eric arrived with two cups of coffee and a slice of pie.

“Here you go, on the house, a slice of _not_ pecan pie,” Eric said with a smirk.

“Sorry about that. I’m sure your pecan pie is pretty tasty.”

“Well, my _pecan_ pie is tasty, but I’m not sure what you’re pronouncing there, Canada.”

“Canada, eh?”

“Well, if the moose fits,” Eric teased back.

“Sorry, we’re not all Georgia peaches who can’t pronounce pecan.”

Eric laughed.

“You’ve been looking me up, Canada?” Eric asked. “How do you know I’m from Georgia?”

“The same way you know I’m from Canada,” Jack volleyed back.

Eric laughed and shook his head. “Well, you got me there.”

“This is a great place,” Jack said.

“Thanks, I put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into it.”

“Not in the baked goods, I hope. I think the health department frowns on that sort of thing.”

“Silly,” Eric said as he laughed again. The two smiled at each other, and Jack could have sworn that Eric blushed.

“It shows, really. Speaking of, I just took a great picture of you up at the counter.” 

He pulled out his phone and leaned over to show Eric, and ending up tipping one of the cups and spilling it all over him.

“Oh, god!” Jack shouted as Eric jumped up and fanned himself, clearly holding back a shriek and in pain from the hot coffee.

“I’m so sorry!”

“Yeah, I know!” Eric said as he gritted his teeth. 

“Is there anything I can do?” Jack asked mortified.

“No! No, I—I’m going to change. Bye, Jack.”

Jack stood there as he watched Eric walk toward the back.

“Dex, can you wipe down that table?” he called out.

Jack meekly got up and left.

_Yesterday…_

Jack was on his couch, wondering how long he could get away with not using the elevator and only using the service entrance to enter and exit the building. He was so embarrassed and disappointed by how everything between him and Eric had turned out; he was perfectly willing to hide indefinitely. To date, he had spat on, insulted, scalded and needlessly chirped his crush. 

“Wow, you are some Casanova there, Zimmermann,” Jack said dryly to himself. 

A small knock on his door pulled him out of his pity party. He opened the door and was surprised to see Eric standing there.

“Hi,” Eric said softly.

“Uh, hi.”

They stood there for a few beats until Eric finally spoke.

“Can I come in?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Sorry…”

“Okay, stop with the sorries,” Eric said. 

“Sorry,” Jack said, then blushed when Eric giggled. 

“How are you?” Jack asked as he waved in Eric’s general crotchal area.

“Um, fine. Really, it was fine. My legs got most of it, but it didn’t burn—promise.”

“Good.”

“So… I was wondering?”

“Yeah?”

Eric leaned against the hallway wall and wrinkled his nose.

“Are you always teasing me because you don’t like me, or because you want to be friends and are just goofy as heck?”

Jack was taken aback, definitely not expecting that.

“It’s just,” Eric continued. “I’m always kind of leery of big jock guys I don’t know very well who are nice to me—well, because of my own personal hangups—so I admit I might not have been super friendly at first, and I was talking to my friend Ransom and he said maybe you’re just shy and awkward.”

Jack opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, no words escaped.

“Yes,” he finally said. 

“Yes to what part?” Eric asked.

“To being friends, to being awkward, to those parts.”

Eric smiled brightly, and Jack’s stomach flipped in a way that made his heart race. 

“Neat! Well, new friend, I have to get going, but I’m glad we cleared that up.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jack said. 

Friends. He was happy with friendship. And well, he’d see where it would go from there, if anywhere. At least they were now friends.

Eric leaned in, and Jack wasn’t sure if he was aiming for a hug, half-hug, fist bump or any other sort of combination so he would just follow Eric’s lead. What ended up happening, however, was Eric getting up on his tiptoes and the same time Jack leaned down. An accidental brush of lips occurred... 

The two paused.

“Oh,” Eric replied.

“Oh,” Jack said as well, not sure what to do next. 

He was ready to apologize when all of a sudden, Eric went back in for another brush of the lips—definitely on purpose.

_Today at the nook…_

“So that’s how we met. What do you think?”

The guys were so quiet, you could hear a pie drop.

“Zimmboni, when are we going to the pie shop?” Tater asked in an awed whisper.

Marty rolled his eyes and pushed at Tater. “What did you do, kiddo?!”

Jack smiled, and the team erupted into cheers that were even louder than the earlier ones.

“You little shit, you just wanted to tell us you’re seeing someone!” Snowy laughed.

“Dude! Are you going to ask him out again?” Poots shouted.

“The Z-man, getting busy!” Thirdy said as he offered Jack a fist bump.

“So, what happened?” Guy demanded.

Jack took a massive forkful of his salad. 

“A gentleman doesn’t chirp and tell,” he said with an enormous smirk.

Everyone booed and threw their napkins at him as Jack smiled and blushed.


	2. Bitty's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bitty's POV of all the chirping and flirting....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Crystalized](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystalized/pseuds/Crystalized) for their comment [asking for a sequel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20366992/comments/246848626). Here it is! :D

Four more boxes, just four more boxes, Bitty thought as he tried to open the apartment building door while balancing a moving box filled with baking supplies. The box was so tall, he could barely see over it but—yes!—someone was approaching, and they could hold the door open for him. And oh my, what a someone it was.

A tall, broad-shouldered hottie with icy blue eyes opened the door and shoved right past Bitty. 

“Sorry!” he said as he hurriedly made his way.

“Thanks a lot!” Bitty shouted out.

Of all the nerve! He could have held the door opened, could have moved out of the way. Something. Bitty hoped that gorgeous asshole wasn’t part of the building’s welcome wagon.

“Here, let me get that for you, _mijo_,” a kindly older woman with a small dog and a smile offered.

A few days later, after Bitty had unpacked everything, he decided to go explore his neighborhood a bit more. He liked the apartment building a lot. The location was super convenient and near the bakery. He had a great view of the river, his neighbors were—for the most part—welcoming and sweet. He’d already given Mrs. Rivera, Kirti and Sanjeet, Brad and Vivian and their five kids, plenty of pies and had told them there was more where that came from. Now if he’d run into Big Butt Blue Eyes again, well, he’d give _that_ neighbor a big old pie tin of nothing.

After touring the area, he discovered a delightful Italian deli, a bookstore run by a retired couple who had three cats, a tiny donut shop just small enough and niche enough that he didn’t mind the bit of competition, and a Chinese restaurant that had some roast pork to die for.

He walked back to his place, smiling and content with his day when he noticed him. Well, if it wasn’t Big Butt Blue Eyes himself. And dear lord, watching him run in those shorts was definitely a thing of beauty, damn him. Maybe Bitty was too harsh? Maybe that guy was in a hurry, or late to something, perhaps he hadn’t realized how rude he had been? Bitty’s been guilty of that as well.

The guy slowed down and stopped to take a drink from his water bottle. Bitty was going to say hi and introduce himself formally, give the guy another chance to—

“Oh, good lord!” Bitty cried out as he was suddenly sprayed with water. His t-shirt splattered with the watery spit of Big Butt Blue Eyes who gasped and sputtered. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said through some jagged coughs.

Bitty scowled as he looked down his shirt, and then remembered this doof needed help. He slapped Big Butt Blue Eyes on the back.

“There, there,” he said flatly.

“Thank you,” the guy croaked out. “I’m okay.”

“Yeah... well, I’m glad one of us is,” Bitty said, not sure what had taken over him.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry. I just spat water all over you,” the world’s most observant man stated.

“Listen, Orca, I know, I was there,” Bitty shot back—instantly ashamed at being so snippy. It wasn’t on purpose. He sighed. “It’s fine. It was an accident.”

“I’m so sorry!” 

“Forget about it. Really,” Bitty said. All he wanted to do was go upstairs and change. He’d take his guy’s apology and call it a day.

“Haha, if anything, I improved your t-shirt, right? It now looks like a Pollock painting. You know, the drip painting guy?”

Eric glanced at his shirt, then back up at him and shook his head. So a non-apology, apology? What the what with this guy, already. “Wow, okay…”

Big Butt Blue Eyes gave him some weird grimace/laugh hybrid and Bitty made his way toward the lobby. Just as he was reaching for the door handle, Spits McGee reached for it as well.

“Sorry, here, after you,” he said as he opened the door for Bitty.

“Thanks.”

Bitty was relieved to see an elevator open up just as they approached them. The doors closed, and the elevator music rang comically through the speakers as Bitty could see the guy fidgeting out of the corner of his eye.

“Did you, uh, just move in?” he asked.

“Yeah, just last week.”

“I haven’t seen you around.”

Bitty snorted at this guy’s obliviousness.

“Guess I’ve been busy unpacking.”

“Maybe ‘cause you’re short?” he said apropos nothing.

Bitty did a double-take, not sure if he’d heard correctly. “Pardon me?”

“I mean, maybe I couldn’t see you behind the moving boxes? I’m Jack, by the way.”

Bitty looked at Big Butt Blue Eyes—Jack—and wondered if he was always so… blunt. 

“Eric. Well, this is my floor. Excuse me.”

He walked out of the elevator and huffed. One thing for sure, there was no pie in this guy’s future.

_Two days later…_

Okay, Bitty had a big order coming in at the shop and wanted to finish inventory. He frowned that even on the days Bit o’ Honey was closed, he had to work. Still, he wouldn’t trade his little bakery for anything in the world.

He packed a little bagel sandwich, took his travel mug, and locked up his apartment. The elevator doors opened, and there stood Jack.

“Oh, Jack, hey,” Bitty said, trying to be polite. As the great Lady Michelle once suggested, go high when they go low.

“Eric.”

The two stood silently. Bitty’s mama did always say if you have nothing nice to say, so he was glad they both observed that golden rule. Bitty just wished Jack wasn’t so stupidly attractive. Stupid Jack. His butt was too big, his face was too good. Wolf eyes. His eyes were too wolf eyes. Who does that? 

“What do you have there?” Jack asked, just as Bitty was about to take a bite.

“Bagel with jam.”

“Huh. You need more protein.”

What in tarnation?

“Protein?” Bitty frowned. “Thanks, I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.”

“Yeah… to uh, grow? It’s just that… uh, protein is an important component in the body. Your body needs protein to build and repair tissues.”

Bitty continued to amend his list: kind of mean, muscles too much, funny accent. 

“Bones, muscles, cartilage, skin, blood… they all need protein.”

What was this boy doing? Bitty snorted and shook his head.

“Like I said, I’ll keep that in mind. I’m just happy I’m tall enough to reach the elevator buttons.”

“Haha. Guess you got lucky,” Jack said with a dumb grin that Bitty most definitely did not return. 

Okay, the accent is kind of attractive. Stupid sexy Jack. The elevator dinged, and the doors split open.

“Goodbye, Jack,” Bitty said as he left without turning back.

“Uh, yeah, sure, bye!” Jack said as the elevator doors shut closed.

“What in the deep-fried hell was that?” Bitty asked no one in particular.

_Three days later…_

“Yeah, I use light corn syrup for that,” Bitty said as he stood in the parking lot chatting with Mrs. Rivera.

“I’ll have to try it. Do you make a chocolate pecan pie, too? That is my favorite,” Mrs. Rivera said.

“Only for special occasions, or for sweet neighbors who’d like one!” Bitty laughed.

Of all of Bitty’s neighbor’s, he found that Mrs. Rivera was by far his favorite. She reminded him so much of his MooMaw, and just felt so happy the few times he had been in her kitchen. When she invited him over to make tamales, he thought he might cry. Of course, he then laughed when he realized it was also because Mrs. Rivera wanted to introduce Bitty to her grandson, Ruben.

Bitty was so caught up in petting Queso and hearing the latest building gossip, he hadn’t realized Jack had pulled up alongside them.

She turned and smiled broadly at Jack and his dumb sexy wolf eyes.

“Jack! Hi, _mijo_,” she said.

“Hi, Mrs. Rivera.”

She leaned in and gave him a peck on each cheek, and Bitty couldn’t help but smile.

“Hi, Jack,” he said with a tiny grin.

“Hi, Eric.”

“Eric here was telling me about his pies,” Mrs. Rivera said. “Sharing recipes. Did you know he owns a bakery over on Hope street?”

“Nice, maybe I should go there and take the guys,” Jack said.

Bitty had no clue what guys he was talking about, but he’d gladly take business from anyone.

“I wouldn’t say no to some extra customers,” he smiled.

“Jack plays for the hockey team,” Mrs. Rivera said as she placed her hand on his forearm. “Did you know that, Eric?”

Hockey? Well, that explained the muscles. 

“I thought you looked familiar—guess I wasn’t sure where I’d seen you,” Bitty said and surprised himself with the softness of his voice. 

“Maybe you recognize me from the elevator? I’m in there a lot,” Jack said with a cheeky grin.

Bitty snapped his fingers. “Yeah! That’s where.”

“It’s a really uplifting place,” Jack quickly added. 

Lord help him; this nerd was a punster.

“I hear it has its ups and downs,” Bitty shot back.

Jack grinned as Bitty chuckled and shook his head. Puns and dad jokes were his weakness. Lord, don’t make him crush on that man. 

“I like pie,” Jack said. 

He sounded so goofy and earnest, Bitty couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that so?”

“Pie is good, except for pecan. That just seems so gross to me.”

Aaaaand there it was. Mrs. Rivera glanced between Jack and Eric.

“Will you look at the time,” Bitty said, pointing at his watch-less wrist. “I should get going. Bye, Mrs. Rivera. Bye, Queso. Jack.”

He adjusted the strap on his messenger bag and quickly walked away.

That night, Bitty tossed and turned in bed. What was Jack's problem? Was he just that awkward, or was he messing with Bitty? It wouldn’t be the first time Bitty thought someone liked him and it turned out to be either a joke or just nothing at all. 

Still… Mrs. Rivera genuinely liked him, and he couldn’t picture her falling for some douche canoe’s false sincerity. Maybe Jack was a nice guy after all, and perhaps, he didn’t know how to act around gay people? It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that maybe this is the first gay person Jack had encountered. Not that Jack knew Bitty was gay, but still.

He looked at the clock on his nightstand and rolled his eyes when he saw the time. He wasn’t going to lose any more sleep over Jack Zimmermann.

_The following week…_

“Hot stuff, coming through!” Bitty called out as he walked out with a tray of croissants fresh from the oven.

Dex laughed. “Are you talking about the crescent rolls or you?”

“Har-har, mister,” Bitty said as he began to put them in a basket in the display case.

Bit o’ Honey Bakery and Pie Shoppe had only been around for a month, but already, Bitty felt like his little place had been home forever. He took such care in picking everything, from the paint colors to the curtains and dishware—the fact that people took to it meant so much. He looked up, and that’s when he noticed who had walked in.

“Jack, what are you doing here?” Bitty asked with surprised from behind the counter.

“I wanted to try some of your pie, and take some for the team.”

God, he looked good. He was wearing track pants and a soft-looking Falconers t-shirt which deliciously stretched tightly across the chest and around his biceps (and, yeah, he had googled the name of Jack’s team, so sue him.)

“Oh, that’s really sweet of you,” Bitty said and could feel himself blush. “Coffee?”

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Go have a seat, let me take this order, and I’ll bring it out to you,” Bitty said with a wink.

Oh god, he did that, didn’t he? He just winked at Jack Wolf Eyes Zimmermann. Lord have mercy. Okay, he could do this. He could act perfectly and splendidly polite and put Jack at ease with—well, whatever it was he was feeling about Bitty.

“Dex, can you take over for a moment? I’m going to pop over and sit with my neighbor for a second.”

Dex shrugged. “Yeah, whatever, go ahead.”

Bitty brought two cups of coffee and a slice of pie over to Jack’s table.

“Here you go, on the house, a slice of not pecan pie,” he said with a smirk.

“Sorry about that. I’m sure your pecan pie is pretty tasty.”

Bitty wrinkled his nose and smirked. “Well, my pecan pie is tasty, but I’m not sure what you’re pronouncing there, Canada.”

“Canada, eh?”

“Well, if the moose fits,” Bitty teased back.

“Sorry, we’re not all Georgia peaches who can’t pronounce pecan.”

Bitty laughed again. They were bantering, and part of Bitty almost wanted to think of it as flirting. Was it flirting?

“You’ve been looking me up, Canada?” Bitty asked. “How do you know I’m from Georgia?”

“The same way you know I’m from Canada,” Jack volleyed back.

Bitty laughed and shook his head. “Well, you got me there.”

“This is a great place,” Jack said. He paused and took a good look around, then smiled sweetly, and Bitty felt his stomach flip.

“Thanks. I put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into it,” Bitty said.

“Not in the baked goods, I hope. I think the health department frowns on that sort of thing.”

“Silly,” Bitty said as he laughed again. The two smiled at each other, and Bitty hated that he could feel himself blush. Could he not?

“It shows, really. Speaking of, I just took a great picture of you up at the counter.”

Jack pulled out his phone and leaned over to show Bitty, and then the next thing Bitty knew he had a lapful of coffee.

“Oh, god!” Jack shouted as Bitty jumped up and fanned himself, clearly holding back a shriek and in pain from the hot coffee. He would not make a scene; he would not make a scene—he did not want to spook the customers.

“I’m so sorry!”

“Yeah, I know!” Bitty said as he gritted his teeth.

“Is there anything I can do?” Jack asked with some weird grin on his face.

“No! No, I—I’m going to change. Bye, Jack.”

Bitty practically ran to the kitchen and left Jack.

“Dex, can you wipe down that table?” he called out.

By the time he came back out, Jack was gone.

_Yesterday…_

“Has he been like outwardly aggressive, or just kinda… awkward AF?”

Bitty hummed as he gripped his cell tightly and pressed it to his ear. His head hung off the sofa as his feet propped up on the back.

“Well?” Ransom asked.

Bitty huffed and thought about it, really thought about it. “Wellll… let’s recap, shall we? So far, he’s spat on me, called me short, insulted my food, and spilled an entire cup of coffee on me but I guess it seems like there was never any maliciousness behind any of it? Just some funky ass timing?”

“Bitty, my dude, maybe he likes you and you just make him nervous? You know, in some cultures, chirping and flirting can be the same thing,” Ransom said.

“Cultures?”

“Yeah, the NHL, AHL, CHL…”

Bitty laughed. “I don’t know.”

“Not every big jock is out to get you, Bits.”

Bitty sighed. “I know… I know.”

“At the very least ask the dude if he wants to be your friend. And then get me some Falcs tickets so I can meet Mashkov.”

“Pssssh! Glad I could be of assistance, Rans.”

“That’s what friends are for, Bits. Now go find out if that hockey robot wants you to be his bud.”

Bitty laughed and shook his head, happy he had Ransom and his somewhat-skewed wisdom in his life.

He sat up, mulled it over and discovered there was no time like the present.

The small knock on Jack’s door told Bitty there was no turning back now. This was it. He’d either leave with a new friend and some peace of mind or not—and then at the very least, Jack would stop bothering him. 

When Jack opened the door, he looked stunned to see Bitty standing there.

“Hi,” Bitty said softly.

“Uh, hi.”

They stood there for a few beats until Bitty finally spoke.

“Can I come in?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Sorry…” Jack said as he waved Bitty inside.

“Okay, stop with the sorries,” Bitty said.

“Sorry,” Jack said, then blushed when Bitty giggled.

“How are you?” Jack asked nervously as he waved in Eric’s general crotchal area.

Oh boy.

“Um, fine. Really, it was fine. My legs got most of it, but it didn’t burn—promise.”

“Good.”

“So,” Bitty said and steeled himself. “I was wondering...”

“Yeah?”

He leaned against the hallway wall and wrinkled his nose.

“Are you always teasing me because you don’t like me, or because you want to be friends and are just goofy as heck?”

The reaction Jack gave him was one that Bitty was not expecting. He looked surprised and embarrassed.

“It’s just,” Bitty continued, “I’m always kind of leery of big jock guys I don’t know very well who are nice to me—well, because of my own personal hang-ups—so I admit I might not have been super friendly at first, and I was talking to my friend, Justin, and he said maybe you’re just shy and awkward.”

Jack opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, no words escaped.

“Yes,” he finally said.

“Yes to what part?” Bitty asked.

“To being friends, to being awkward, to those parts,” he said earnestly.

Bitty smiled brightly.

“Neat! Well, new friend, I have to get going, but I’m glad we cleared that up.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jack said.

Friends, Bitty thought. He was happy with friendship. And well, he’d see where it would go from there, if anywhere. At least they were now friends, and as such, he was going to hug his new friend goodbye.

Bitty leaned in, and then paused awkwardly not sure if Jack was a huggy kind of guy—or if he preferred those weird side hugs? Or maybe he was a back clapper? Oh lord. Bitty got up on his tiptoes, and Jack leaned in during their awkward bro dance, and then an accidental brush of lips occurred...

The two paused.

“Oh,” Bitty replied as he felt that brush down to his toes.

“Oh,” Jack parroted, still frozen in place.

Bitty was ready to apologize when all of a sudden, he saw Jack's pupils dilate as he licked his lips and stared at Bitty's mouth—and it all snapped into place. 

Ransom was right, chirping and flirting could be the same thing. So, Bitty did what every single cell in his body was screaming for him to do. He went back in for another brush of the lips. This time, definitely on purpose.

_This morning…_

Bitty heard the alarm go off and instinctively flung his arm out to shut it off.

“Ow,” a deep, sleepy voice called out.

Bitty opened an eye and realized he had accidentally smacked Jack on the face, and not only that, but he was still in Jack’s bed. JACK! Bitty smiled when everything came flooding back to him.

“Sorry,” Bitty said and squeaked when Jack wrapped himself around Bitty and pulled him in tightly.

“Lord, you’re like a big Canadian octopus.” Bitty laughed when Jack nuzzled him. “Goodness!”

“I don't want to, but I guess I should get up,” Jack said. “I have a skate this morning and then team lunch.”

Jack pressed a kiss to Bitty’s forehead and got out of bed. He bent down to pick up his pants, and Bitty took a nice long look. Jack turned, caught him, and laughed.

“Will I see you tonight?” he asked Bitty softly.

Bitty nodded and smiled.

“Right on," Jack said smiling. "And if you’ll excuse me, I have to jump in the shower and get ready for work, but please, stay as long as you’d like.”

He bent down and kissed Bitty.

“I’ll make some coffee,” Bitty said.

“Sounds great. Today is going to be a good one, I can tell,” Jack said. “I can’t wait to get to the nook and tell the team all about this cute guy I met.”

Jack winked and went into his ensuite, and Bitty plopped his head back on the pillow and sighed happily. Yeah, this apartment building was definitely a most excellent choice.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, Jack! I love you, you big dweeby sweetheart. With a nod in chapter two to Ngozi's iconic list of Bitty's [Reasons to Hate Jack Zimmermann](https://disqus.com/home/discussion/omgcheckplease/check_please_check_please_8_first_comic/newest/#comment-1517677222).
> 
> All OMGCP characters by Ngozi Ukazu.
> 
> Come and say [hello on Tumblr](https://wrathofthestag.tumblr.com), and reblog if you like. :)


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